


As Though Nothing Could Fall

by Silberias



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, from a tumblr prompt, gifting this to several people if you wish to be ungifted please let me know :), in the FFTIA universe, just fluffy as so little is... I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silberias/pseuds/Silberias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an unguarded moment, Oberyn asks if Sansa's parents ever gave one another surprise gifts. For the first time in a long time, Sansa remembers her family when they were whole and happy. In the "For Fear Tonight is All" universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Though Nothing Could Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BethMartell](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BethMartell), [hostilecherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecherry/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [lit_chick08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/gifts).



> From bethmartell's prompt over on tumblr: _why not an extra of FFTIA where Oberyn aks Sansa about her (dead) family ? About her life in Winterfell ? PS : Your fanfic gives me life !_
> 
> Just so all of you know...it is TOTALLY and utterly the fault of bethmartell, hostilecherry, lit_chick08, and GhostRelic's fault that FFTIA is getting written. MOSTLY hostilecherry's fault because of the manip, but the other three are totes culpable here for all of our feels...!
> 
> And that is totally fine :D
> 
> Enjoy!

Sansa hadn’t wanted to let him go back to Sunspear, though his business with Arianne was important and she knew it she still wanted him near. The last several months had been spent in incredible proximity, much more than most newlywedded brides ever received with their grooms until after the birth of an heir. The birth of a son merited more attention on the wife in the rest of Westeros, but Oberyn had always made time for her when he could. He did not crave a son, and he had children enough—he valued their time together for the simple fact of it.

"When is your nameday? I will look for a gift while I am in Sunspear," Oberyn said, kissing down her neck as they sat looking at the gardens in the moonlight. It had been raining more often of late and soon the skies would be regularly overcast and gray, and so though the evening was brisk they both endured it. Ellaria slept soundly in the bedchamber, curled up with Doree and Loree after the little girls begged Sansa to tell them stories and sing lullabies. It had reminded her of Rickon, and how he had calmed when she would sing to him.

"It passed while we were on the road. You seemed in such a hurry to return home I did not want to cause a delay. When is yours?" Oberyn squeezed her a little tighter and scented back up her neck to just behind her ear.

"In a few months. We shall have to have a special supper for you, to celebrate. I had hoped that my wedding gifts would have arrived by now but they have not. The journey may be more arduous in these troubled times."

"Oberyn, you’ve given me too much already—"

"No, I decided on these the day I met you. If you went along with the lies and let me rescue you, I would gift them to you." Sansa played with her steel sigil necklace, so like his own, and stared at her lap as she considered how to proceed. It had been a long time since someone had spoiled her and she fought through her wariness even now after being free of the Lannisters for half a year.

"What are they?"

"I cannot tell you, my love, they are a surprise. I think you will like them, though. Surely your father gifted your mother surprises?" There was a tentative hesitation to his voice then, unsure if he overstepped their boundaries by asking so directly about her parents. Her dead family. Sansa closed her eyes and remembered her father’s long, sad face. She willed her mind away from how he’d looked when Joffrey had taken his head and focused on when he’d been enclosed in heavy fur cloaks and had snow in his hair. His hands in thick gloves and his smile slow to build but as warm as a bonfire if you stayed to watch it.

"My father was a shy man—he wasn’t raised as the heir, and so he wasn’t forced to be outgoing by the maester or my grandfather. He wasn’t simple, but he preferred simplicity. A day of prayer for him might be dragging his tack out to the godswood and inspecting it inch by inch, and he would fidget in the sept when he went with my mother to pray. The old gods came easier to him than the new," she said softly, tears gathering in her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Behind her Oberyn held her closer but made no attempt to interrupt.

"Mother was shy as well, but for a different reason. She cared greatly for how she was seen—everyone in Winterfell knew that she’d been gifted a love-match with my uncle Brandon before his death, but he was taken from her and she was married to my father instead. She loved Father, but did not like people outside of her family to see it. Their gifts were usually surprises, but we weren’t often present to see them given."

"But you knew of their existence?"

"Oh yes—Father would fret that Mother would dislike his gifts, sometimes, and consult with Robb and I since we were the eldest," she laughed at the memory of when her father had had a set of gilt steel brushes and combs brought to Winterfell from Lorath and he had asked Sansa, who at that age had only ever seen wooden brushes, if perhaps they were not fine enough for her lady mother. She had thought he was asking her a trick question, as Maester Luwin sometimes did.

It was the first time she’d laughed when remembering her family in a long time.

"The Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, heir to the Kings of Winter and descended from the First Men asking children under the age of ten about such things, can you imagine?" Oberyn shook his head, and when she glanced at him over her shoulder she saw a soft smile lighting his face. Sansa brought one of his hands from her hip to the swell of her belly, laying it flat as she rested her head back on his shoulder.

"Mother was too angry with Father to lay with him when he returned from the war—and so that is why I am so much younger than Robb. Apparently she would throw her slippers and boots at Father whenever he tried to make peace. It was only after one of my brothers, Jon or Robb I never found out which, almost died of an illness that she relented. When she fell pregnant with me, though, she returned to throwing shoes at my father for ruining their beddings by getting her with babe."

"Ellaria threw things at me once upon a time. I would have thanked her had she stopped with shoes…"

Sansa elbowed him at that, a soft laugh on her lips even as she did it.

"I’m told you deserved it, husband, do not play the innocent." He pouted for a moment but soon gave it up in favor of kissing her.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from David Bowie's "Heroes," so there's that :D
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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